


Loyalties

by MechBull



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-24 18:11:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2591243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Jemma Simmons’ loyalties are to science and nothing else matters. Until she meets someone – or <i>something</i> – who changes her mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jemma tried not to gape too much as she walked up the ramp. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been on a plane before, after all.

But who was she fooling? This was hardly squeezing down the center aisle until she got to her tiny coach seat, usually in the middle with a view of the wing and two overweight guys on either side hogging the armrests. This plane was better than her apartment, better than most hotels she stayed in, even the ones her bosses occasionally sprung for when she went to fancy conferences. And it would, essentially, be her new home. She kind of wanted to pinch herself.

After so many long, hard years, she had finally made it. No more sitting on her lab stool, bored out of her skull as she waited for the centrifuge to stop spinning or silently seething as she watched her supervisor be the one to report all her findings. Jemma wouldn’t have been surprised if it turned out he took all the credit too. Only, her new bosses somehow must have known about her work and recognized her value. Recognized that she could be doing so much more.

And now she finally had access to truly fantastic knowledge and technology and samples. And she’d get to see the world on top of it!

Life couldn’t be better.

“Simmons?”

Jemma spun around at the voice, plastering on the friendliest smile she could muster. She would ingratiate herself to this team, if it was the last thing she did. She wasn’t about to mess this up. So, OK. Maybe she’s never had fantastic social skills. She’d find them.

“Yes. Hi. I’m Simmons. Jemma. Jemma Simmons. Is…me.”

Not the greatest start.

Agent Tall, Dark and Handsome gave her a look somewhere between confused and annoyed. Jemma inhaled and exhaled quickly, before trying the whole smile thing again.

“I’m Grant Ward. Get settled in. Briefing in ten.”

“Oh…OK.”

And with that, he turned and walked away.

Apparently, no one in Hydra had the greatest social skills. At least she’d fit right in.

***

Jemma was pretty sure she was losing her mind. Or perhaps was the victim of some hopefully-friendly hazing. She was exceptionally organized (anal, some people had called it), and so she was starting to get simultaneously annoyed and confused every time she found some piece of lab equipment or supplies on a table or in a cupboard far, far away from where she knew she had put them.

She didn’t know who could be doing it, though. The only people who regularly spent any time in the lab at all were her and Donnie. And Donnie was much too…dull…to do anything like hazing. He just went about his work, almost mindlessly complying with any orders sent down from Garrett or Ward.

At that moment, she was opening drawers left and right. She had just been working with the samples that morning! The GH formula was important, both for Hydra in general and Garrett specifically. She and Ward were the only ones who knew it was basically the only thing keeping him alive at this point. She needed to figure out its composition and how to synthesize it already. There simply was no way she would have been so careless about the vials filled with possible replications that were waiting on analysis.

“Aha!” Jemma exclaimed suddenly. There they were, tucked away in the corner of the table, almost hidden behind the incubator. “What are you doing there? You silly little buggers.”

But before she could grab them and begin her analyses, Ward’s voice came over the speaker. They had arrived at their destination, and she needed to get ready to disembark. Jemma almost jumped up and down with excitement – her first field mission!

Jemma hurried out of the room, flipping off the light switch. She didn’t bother looking back, but if she had, she might have seen the samples moving again, apparently all on their own. The fridge door opened and the vials floated to the back corner behind a couple stacks of agar plates.

***

“How’s it going, Donnie?” Jemma asked a few weeks later.

She needed a break. The last samples weren’t replicated well enough – which she figured out after spending almost an hour trying to find them. In the fridge! What was going on?! ( _What was wrong with her?_ ) The next batch she made after that was even worse. She was beginning to think she’d never duplicate the serum. She had overheard Ward and Garrett talking once; apparently, the original source had been destroyed by that guy Coulson. Typical S.H.I.E.L.D. – they think something shouldn’t be used so they destroy it. How did any scientific advancements ever get achieved under their watch? Honestly.

Anyway. Distraction. Donnie.

“Oh, pretty well,” Donnie finally replied. “I think I figured out the larger version of the weather device.”

“Oh, that’s great! I mean, the prototype was pretty impressive itself.”

“Yeah,” Donnie agreed, not looking up from where he was tinkering with some piece of machinery. “But obviously, we’ll need the real thing eventually. But I think it’s almost there. Thanks to you, of course.”

Jemma narrowed her eyes in confusion and turned to look at her lab mate. “Me? What did I do?”

Donnie finally looked at her and smiled. “Don’t be coy. Who else would have done it?”

“Done _what_?”

“Oh come on.” Donnie held up the tablet in front of him. “Are you telling me you didn’t add the final piece of the puzzle to my specs? The fix to the power source?”

Speechless for a moment, Jemma just stared at him with her mouth wide open. Obviously she wouldn’t have had any clue how to fix Donnie’s problem, and he knew it. But he also knew as well as she did, they were the only two people ever inside that lab. She wasn’t about to admit the near-constant confusion she had been feeling the last several weeks and risk her place on this team. So she smiled and forced a laugh.

“Yeah, it was me. Sorry, it just flashed into my head and I knew.”

“No need to apologize! Feel free to finish all my projects.” Donnie laughed as he turned away.

Jemma felt the smile fall off her face as she faced her own work again.

***

Jemma blinked rapidly several times and stifled a yawn. It was late – or early, technically – and the plane was quiet and dark as it sliced through the sky towards their next destination. She was exhausted, but they had encountered a man who could absorb any material into his body and it was too fascinating to try and explore why.

“Absorbo-Man,” she muttered to herself, trying out nicknames. If S.H.I.E.L.D. could have Iron Man and Captain America, then Hydra could have its own gifteds with corny names. “The Living Sponge.”

“Sir Sucks-a-Lot.”

Jemma gasped, turning around on her stool quickly. She hoped to see Donnie, or even Ward, someone. But no one on the plane spoke with a Scottish accent…

And there was no one there anyway.

“I’m going crazy,” she whispered to herself.

“Going?” came the voice again. “You work for Hydra; I’d say you’re already there.”

Jemma stood up quickly, toppling her stool as she spun again.

Standing in the corner was a young man around her age, wearing a slight smirk and entirely too much plaid. She had never seen him before.

“Who…who are you?” she asked, backing up slowly and trying not to be too obvious that she was feeling around for the alarm button. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey! You’re the squatters! This is a S.H.I.E.L.D. plane.”

“It has been commandeered by Hydra,” Jemma clarified haughtily. “Who. Are. You?”

“I’m…I…” The guy looked scared suddenly, which made Jemma feel less afraid, somehow. “You know, I don’t remember,” he concluded.

It was at that moment that two things happened: Jemma found the alarm button behind her. But before she could press it, she finally noticed that he wasn’t leaning against the corner of the lab table. He was standing in the middle of it.

He was…a ghost?

***

Jemma refused to simply give in and speak to the figment of her imagination. It was bad enough that she was leaving things in random places and forgetting about them. She wasn’t going to start talking to herself too.

That didn’t stop him from asking her silly questions, or staring at her while she was trying to work, or humming annoying tunes – right now, Henry the 8th, or poking at things in the lab (How? How was he able to manipulate some things and walk right through others? How? The laws of physics – no. No, Jemma. He wasn’t real. He wasn’t _doing_ anything.)

The…manifestation of her subconscious, perhaps…took a deep breath and, with a sly glance at her, started humming that damn song again from the beginning. Jemma groaned and faceplanted on the lab table. She took a deep breath and sat up again.

“Stop. _Please_ stop,” she finally said.

He glanced up at the clock with an exaggerated expression. “Only took 48 hours to crack you. Not much of a supervillain, are you?”

“I’m not any kind of villain at all,” Jemma replied with forced cheeriness. “I’m a biochemist.”

“Who works for Hydra.”

“Indeed.”

“Nazis intent on world domination.”

“Oh, come on. This is the 21st century.”

“Oh, OK, sure. No possible way crazy bigots with insatiable thirsts for power could still exist.”

“Lots of good things have grown out of organizations and movements with questionable pasts.”

“Pasts? Two months ago, they tried to send helicarriers up into the sky that could target and kill millions of innocent people.”

Jemma stood up and turned her back on the specter. She pretended she needed a new set of gloves, but really this conversation was far too familiar. She had had it with her parents, with her friends, with herself. But none of them had been able to drown out the hopes she had for her own future, the lies she told herself so she could answer all the questions she had.

“According to Captain America,” she finally said.

“You don’t trust _Captain America_?” came the reply. He was right beside her suddenly, and Jemma jumped. How could he move like that? (Because he wasn’t _real_.)

“No,” Jemma said, not sounding particularly confident. She took a breath and repeated more firmly. “No. No one is that good. That righteous. The people in Hydra might not be saints but they don’t hide who they are through nostalgic patriotism and aw-shucks attitudes. They’re pragmatists. Like me.”

The only response she got was spluttering, disbelieving laughter. She turned away again.

***

Jemma growled in frustration as she finally found her latest attempts at synthesizing the GH formula. Her frustration only grew when she heard _him_ chuckling behind her.

“I don’t know why,” she said through gritted teeth as she carried the samples back to the main counter, “you insist on trying to sabotage me. Don’t you care about the advancement of science?”

“Not at the expense of, you know, the survival of the world.”

“Right. Hydra and its evil plans.”

 _He_ sidled up next to her, leaning back against the table and smirking. Jemma reminded herself she found him infuriating, no matter how unexpectedly attractive that – annoying! It was an annoying smirk. Not attractive. Not at all. And really, he wasn’t her type anyway. She liked bigger guys, more built. _He_ was far too boyish, with those curls that were just a little too long and his…his _ears_. And his naïve views on right and wrong.

“I need something to call you,” she said to change the subject.

“Huh?”

“A name.”

He frowned and looked away. “I told you. I don’t remember my name.”

(Because you don’t exist, Jemma reminded herself.)

“Just…pick something.”

“You can call me whatever you want, darling,” he drawled with affected innuendo.

Jemma couldn’t help but break into laughter.

“Stop it.”

He smiled at her then, a rare genuine smile, and Jemma had to look away. Honestly, her social life was pretty sad when she had to start hallucinating guys to flirt with her.

“Well, you’re Scottish. We can go with something Scottish.”

“Hamish? Angus? Lachlan? _Mungo?_ ”

“I hate you.”

“What about Mack?”

“Mack?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just…seems familiar, somehow.”

“Mack,” she said again, testing it on her tongue. “It’s not quite right, I don’t think, but it’ll do.”

Mack turned around, this time leaning on his forearms as he looked at the vials. Jemma took the opportunity to quickly check out his backside and then focused on her work again.

“Why don’t you go sabotage Donnie’s project, for a change?”

“Eh,” he laughed. “He’s sabotaging himself enough already.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion. But before she could ask him to explain, the lab door opened and Ward walked in. And she was only further surprised and confused when Mack stiffened next to her, his breath suddenly turning shallow and quick. She spared a glance at him, only to discover his eyes were wide and glassy with terror. And then he flickered and disappeared.

To Be Continued


	2. Chapter 2

Her breath was coming in rough gasps, and her moans were almost embarrassingly loud. She’d never been happier the walls to the bunks were soundproof. 

“Mack,” she managed to say, tightening her fingers in his curls as he redoubled his efforts, burying his face between her thighs and doing things with his tongue that were probably illegal or should be. “Oh… _God_.”

She could feel him chuckle soundlessly, his breath hitting against her sensitive skin, at her revealing how much he affected her. Damn him. She tightened her legs around his shoulders and dug her fingers in, pulling him closer, forcing him to do something useful with that mouth for once.

He had shown up in her bunk rather unexpectedly as she was getting ready for bed. It was the first time she had ever seen him outside the lab, and several days since he had blinked out of sight after Ward entered. But before she could even begin to formulate a question, she had noticed the intensity of his stare and the fact that she was almost completely naked. 

Then he had moved, pulling her to him with arms that were entirely too corporeal, covering her mouth with his own and stealing her breath. She couldn’t bring herself to care that he was most likely some kind of symptom of a yet undiagnosed mental illness. They had been building up to this for far too long.

Without warning, he brought his fingers up, rubbing small circles against her clit, varying the pressure, mixing it up with his tongue and his lips. He pressed into her ever so slightly and Jemma felt like she burst into little particles, bits of energy just drifting away. Mack pulled away, mouthing her skin as he worked his way back up to her, kissing her again and lining himself up, not giving her anytime to recover before he entered her and – 

Jemma woke up with a gasp. 

Her bunk was empty, quiet, so dark she couldn’t see anything. She was on her stomach, one arm awkwardly underneath her and the hand between her legs. She was throbbing with desire, her body on fire and the tips of her fingers damp with her arousal.

Her fantasy life was getting entirely out of control. It was even invading her dreams now. This was simply unacceptable. She had to get a grip on herself. No pun intended.

Jemma knew all this. She reminded herself of it again, even as she almost mindlessly rocked down, rotating her hips slightly to apply just the right amount of pressure in just the right spot. She closed her eyes and licked her lips.

And then she rolled over, reaching out for the drawer of her bedside table and quickly finding what she was looking for, even in the darkness. Clicking on the device, she lowered her hand back down. She took a calming breath and tried to picture no one in particular.

***

When he did show up again and not just in her imagination (well…whatever), Jemma tried very hard not to blush. Or stare at his fingers as he messed around with the project Donnie was currently working on.

She cleared her throat and finished walking into the lab. He glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled somewhat shyly.

Jemma had no time for shyness. Donnie would be down there shortly, and Mack never stuck around when Donnie was in the lab.

“What was that all about?”

“What?”

“With Ward?”

“Who?”

“Come on.”

He sighed. Then he tapped the setting on the machine up one notch – Jemma didn’t say anything, deciding to choose her battles. 

“Ward? That’s his name?”

“Yeah.”

Mack faced her fully, sticking his hands in his pockets as he shrugged. He took one step closer. “I don’t know. I just felt…I don’t know. There was something about him.”

“You were afraid.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know why.”

“Did he do something?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Was it just his – ”

“Simmons! I don’t remember! I don’t remember anything!” he shouted. “I don’t _know_ anything.”

She bit her lip, looking down and feeling bizarrely guilty. “I’m sorry, I – ”

“No, don’t.” He sighed again, louder. “It’s like it’s right there. It’s on the tip of my tongue and if I could just figure out, just find the right words, this would all make sense, and I would remember everything and I would be…me again.”

“Mack,” she nearly whispered, her voice giving out.

For the first time, she began to believe he was real.

***

Jemma hugged her arms to her stomach and tried to remember the symptoms of shock. Her science was failing though – sign enough that she was barely holding it together. Whatever the symptoms were, she was sure she could tick each box off. She sniffed loudly, refusing to cry and definitely refusing to look over at the corner of the lab where Donnie usually worked.

“Oh God,” Jemma whispered, bringing one hand to her mouth to stifle her sob.

She had just enough wits about her to sense Mack’s presence moments before he spoke. 

“You’re – are you bleeding?”

He was behind her, but Jemma didn’t turn. She didn’t ever want to talk to him again. “Go away.”

“Simmons? Jemma, what happened?”

He walked around and crouched in front of her. Some small part of her wished that he could touch her, could pull her into his arms and hug her as she cried, warm her up and make her feel safe again for the first time in ages.

But of all the things he had somehow been able to manipulate, he had never been able to make contact with her. Had never even tried, except in her dreams.

He’d certainly managed to touch Donnie’s work though. She steeled herself and silenced any longing for comfort.

“This is your fault,” she accused. “What did you do? What did you _do_?”

Mack looked back at her, confused, worried, seemingly innocent. “I don’t...tell me what happened.”

“Donnie!” she shouted, straightening as the anger filled her. “His machine. Your constant sabotage. It – it couldn’t be contained. People _died_ , Mack.”

He shook his head. “No. No, Jemma, that’s not right. What I did to it – it should never have…”

“Maybe you’re not the genius you think you are,” she spat out, beginning to pace back and forth. “But thank goodness your precious, perfect S.H.I.E.L.D. was there to take him out.”

Jemma lost her strength again, sliding down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. Her hands were shaking.

“They almost shot me,” she whispered. 

After several moments of silence, Mack spoke again, sitting next to her now. Jemma wasn’t sure if he had walked or teleported and she didn’t care. She was happy he was so close, but just as angry at it too. 

“Jemma,” he began firmly. “I did not sabotage Donnie’s machine. Well, I did, but not like that. What I did to it should have prevented it from ever starting. If it misfired, it’s because he figured out how to get around my changes. He wanted it to break.”

“Why on earth would he have wanted that?” she asked, not yet willing to believe but not able to extinguish the small spark of hope that Mack wasn't to blame, that he was still the only ultimately good part of her life.

“I don’t know. Was he acting oddly?”

Donnie? He always acted oddly, in her opinion. But had anything been different? She searched her mind. “Maybe. I don’t know, maybe. Ward was talking to him last, trying to calm him down, repeating some kind of mantra.”

Mack nodded. “A trigger or cue, probably.” 

“What?”

“Listen to me,” he said, turning to face her more fully. “From what I could tell of his work and from what I overheard him say when he was in here by himself…Donnie wasn’t a loyal Hydra agent. He was brainwashed, and he was fighting it. He would have done anything to escape.”

Jemma couldn’t answer. She simply gaped at him.

He shrugged. “I know it sounds crazy. But Hydra wants the best and brightest. Obviously – they recruited you, after all. And if they can’t get willing participants, they’ll do whatever it takes. S.H.I.E.L.D. can be trigger-happy, but they’re not in the brainwashing business, at least.” 

“I…I don’t know what to think.”

Mack sighed and changed the subject. “Are you alright? Were you hurt?”

“No. No, I’m fine. It’s not my – it’s Donnie’s blood.”

“OK,” he replied, before taking a relieved breath. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Jemma exhaled. She was quiet for a long moment before suggesting “Who knows? Maybe we’d get to spend eternity together haunting this lab.”

“Ghosts don’t make a whole lot of scientific sense,” he finally said out loud, and she realized she wasn’t the only one wondering what exactly he was and how he got there.

A beat or two passed as they stared at each other.

“Says the ghost,” she finally replied.

***

Jemma looked over her shoulder, trying to be subtle.

“Stay calm, Simmons,” she whispered to herself. “You’re just a normal person, wasting time on the internet at a café.”

She had waited until they were back home for a few days. She didn’t want to use a Hydra computer, obviously, and she didn’t want anyone to catch her, not even Mack. Because she had started to think, if he were more than just her imagination, he had to be tied to the plane somehow. He was probably on the S.H.I.E.L.D. team that Ward had taken the plane from. And that meant his information could be in the millions upon millions of files that had been released to the public.

Jemma was so glad she was still a lowly lab tech at a mid-level research company when that had happened. She didn’t need all her personal details shared with the world at large. Call her old-fashioned. And when Hydra had come knocking only a week or two later, they had already set up a new firewall. Just one part of the opportunity that had seemed too good to be true at the time.

Unfortunately, other people still believed in internet privacy too, it seemed. Nothing was showing up in her searches. Of course, all she had to work with was “Mack,” which might not have even been his real name. Jemma searched for Coulson next and got nothing on him either, except for a small blurb that he had died before the whole mess in New York. If it weren’t for Garrett and Ward knowing otherwise, Jemma might have even believed the story. 

So. Nothing on Coulson or any members of his team. Someone had done a very, very good job of deleting anything about them. S.H.I.E.L.D. must still have some skilled people on their side.

***

“Anyone have anything else?”

“Um, yeah. I might have something.”

The rest of the team turned to look at Skye but she was focused on Mack. Not taking her eyes off him, she pressed a few buttons on her tablet, and a picture of a young woman in a café projected onto the large screen. Skye tilted her head questioningly.

“Know her?”

“Never seen her before in my life.”

Coulson leaned forward and clasped his hands. “What’s this about, Skye?”

“Got a ping on my alerts. Someone searched for S.H.I.E.L.D., your name and Mack’s a couple days ago from this café. I hacked into their video security system and found her – signed into the right computer at the right time.”

“Have you run facial recognition?” May asked.

“Yep.” Skye pressed a couple more buttons, and a driver’s license image appeared on the screen. “Jemma Simmons, Ph.D.-squared. Super smart, apparently, because she got them both by the time she was 17. Hails from merry olde England and has lived on this side of the pond for a couple years. Up until recently, she worked for a biochem company.”

“Until recently?”

Skye glanced up at Hunter’s question before continuing. “She quit her job and pretty much dropped off the face of the planet. Nine days after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell.”

Mack shook his head. “I still don’t understand where I come into this.”

Coulson stood. “I don’t either. So, I think we better ask her.”

“According to her utility records, she doesn’t spend a whole lot of time at her apartment.”

“Better grab her while we can then.”

With that, Coulson walked away. The others looked at each other for a beat, before standing and immediately starting to plan as they walked out.


	3. Chapter 3

Jemma took a sip of her wine and changed the channel on the TV. The sad truth was, a few months ago, an evening in with trashy reality shows would have been quite welcome. Now, many of her thoughts were on how much longer Garrett and Ward were going to wait on her to replicate the serum…and what they would do with her once they decided they had waited long enough…and whether the delay was due to Mack’s sabotage or her own reluctance to let Garrett reach his full potential. Because, perhaps contrary to popular belief, Jemma wasn’t amoral. And the more she saw of Hydra and people like Garrett, the more she began to regret some of the choices she had made. It wasn’t like she was secretly dreaming of defecting to S.H.I.E.L.D. or anything, but she was starting to wonder if there actually was a limit to her scientific ambition. It wouldn’t do much good to figure out all the answers to the universe, after all, if she played a part in destroying the world while she was at it. 

And, of course, the rest of her thoughts were on Mack. She missed him when she was away. It sounded silly, but she couldn’t help it. She could call up some friends and go out, she could take some much needed private time, but all she wanted to do was sneak back onto the plane and hang out with him. 

They’d be grounded for the next three days while Garrett met with some contacts and the plane was restocked. Ward, meanwhile, was finding a new engineer. He had asked Jemma if she wanted to have input, and maybe she would have, but he had also given her this too-charming smile and said something about wanting to make sure she was happy and productive so she could do her very best work and stick around for a long, long time. Between the creepy flirtatious vibe and the implied threat, Jemma felt like something was crawling up her back. She had politely declined. 

Anyway, three days. She could stay away from Mack for three days. Their relationship had gotten a little too codependent and dangerous anyway. She had run out of batteries for…the device in her bunk. It had gotten much more use after Jemma had acknowledged that he might just be a real person…ghost…whatever. He was so important to her, so perfect for her. He could argue science with her for hours and implore her to be a better person than she claimed she was and make her want more out of life than she had ever realized and remind her how it felt to be the focus of someone’s attention. The notion that someone like that could actually exist but she could never really have him caused such intense longing in her, she couldn’t help but spend more and more time thinking of him in the private, dark intimacy of her own room. 

So, yeah. Maybe it was a good thing to have a few days apart.

***

Simmons sat bolt upright in bed, heart pounding and breathing fast. She wasn’t sure what exactly had woken her, but it wasn’t the pleasurable dreams she had grown used to, that was for sure. She forced herself to inhale and exhale slowly, trying to see anything in the dark room as she listened closely.

There it was. A creak from the floorboard in the hallway just outside her bedroom. She slowly reached over, groping around on her bedside table for some kind of makeshift weapon. All she could find was a hardcover book. Jemma lifted her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head. It’d have to do.

She carefully and quietly slid out of bed and then tiptoed towards the door. She just managed to get into position next to the door when she saw the knob slowly turn. She held her breath and tried not to pass out from fear. 

An Asian woman, wearing black leather like some kind of ninja, stepped into the bedroom. Perhaps someone more trained in combat would have known how to handle this situation better, would have waited to see if there were any more people coming, something. Jemma just swung the book as hard as she could at the woman’s head.

There was a satisfying thud and a grunt of pain, but Jemma didn’t wait to see if it had been enough. She ran as fast as she could (not very fast considering she was barefoot and in a nightie and there was barely any light to see by, but the adrenaline was doing its job). She made it to the kitchen by the time she heard the woman shouting something behind her.

The front door was kicked open. Jemma spun to face the new threat. She caught a glimpse of an unfairly attractive man aiming a weapon at her. It flashed with some kind of light and then – there was nothing.

***

“Good morning, Dr. Simmons.”

The man’s voice was calm and pleasant, with a bit of underlying humor though Jemma couldn’t for the life of her figure out what was so funny.

She pried her eyes open and turned towards the speaker. He was wearing a suit and tie and frankly looked rather forgettable. Somehow she knew she shouldn’t underestimate him.

“Who are you?” she asked, trying to sit up. But she was strapped to the table – immediately panic started to well up. “Where am I? What do you want?”

He held up a hand, interrupting her. And then, to her surprise, he stepped forward and began to undo the straps. 

“I apologize for these. You were thrashing around quite a bit in your sleep. For your own protection, you understand. But you’re not going to hurt anyone, are you?”

Jemma wasn’t making any promises.

“Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D. My name is Phil Coulson. I just have a few questions for you.”

She should have known.

“Would you like a change of clothes?”

Jemma glanced down and noticed she was still in her nightgown. And it was very cold in the room. She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. 

“I’ll have Skye bring something for you. And then we can have a little chat.”

***

“Hi Jemma. Can I call you Jemma?”

Coulson had only been gone about five minutes, but it was more than enough time to realize there was no way to escape the sterile, hospital-like room they had her in. So she had spent the remaining time sitting on the edge of the bed, kicking her legs back and forth and trying to figure out what she’d say to get out of this. 

“Are you supposed to be the Good Cop?” To be fair, that was probably not the most diplomatic start. 

The woman smiled. It was a pretty smile, and Jemma noticed they were probably close in age. In a different world, they could have been friends. 

“Sure, why not? Though we’re all pretty nice, in my opinion. Not everyone makes the greatest first impression, unfortunately.”

Jemma shrugged and made a sarcastic face. “Breaking into someone’s home and kidnapping them maybe isn’t the best way to make friends.”

“How about giving them clothes?”

She held out some sweatpants and a t-shirt with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo. Jemma looked at them for a moment, feeling strangely hesitant. Like maybe there was a deeper meaning behind her desire to put the outfit on beyond the fact that she was practically naked.

“They’re not going to hurt you, or anything,” the girl said, shaking the clothes slightly.

Jemma reached out and grabbed them rather than let herself worry about it more. Turning away for some semblance of privacy, she pulled the sweatpants on quickly. Then she stripped off the nightie and replaced it with the t-shirt.

“I’m Skye,” she heard, the sound slightly muffled by the fabric she was pulling over her head.

Jemma turned around again. “You can,” she finally said. “Call me Jemma, I mean.”

Skye smiled again, somewhat more genuinely. “Follow me, Jemma.”

They walked through several hallways of something that resembled – and probably actually was – an underground lair. Only S.H.I.E.L.D. She tried not to be too distracted as they walked past the windows of a large, sweetly-equipped lab with blinking computers and long tables full of all sorts of goodies. Jemma could feel her hands twitch with the desire to get her hands on some of them.

And then they were in a briefing room. A few people sat around a table, with Coulson standing in front of them all. Jemma looked around. One of them was the one who shot her with whatever that device was, and he was now giving her a friendly, almost flirtatious smile. She still thought he was unfairly attractive, but she wasn’t about to return the smile. The guy sitting next to him was incredibly muscular, could probably squeeze her to death with one hand. He too seemed friendly, but much more suspicious than the first guy. And then there was another man who gave off a kind of arrogant jock vibe, and the Asian woman she had hit with the book. She looked the most stern, and Jemma was a bit afraid she’d be paying for that move sooner than later.

“Hello again, Dr. Simmons. Please have a seat.”

She decided not to argue and sat down immediately. Skye pulled out the chair next to her and flopped into it. 

“So formal, DC. It’s Jemma.”

“Jemma,” Coulson began again. “Let’s get right to the point. You attempted to search the internet for me and members of my team. Why? What were you looking for?”

Jemma was quiet for a long moment, trying to figure out how to even begin to answer – or if she should risk answering at all. What would they do if they found out she was Hydra? Maybe she could just pretend they had the wrong person. But then she’d never find out the truth about Mack, never find a way to help him if she could. She’d have to go back to that plane with nothing but the growing knowledge that she was running out of time.

If she was going to die one way or the other, she could do something about the guilty conscience that had been eating at her since she signed the contract with Hydra. She could take as many of them down with her as possible. And maybe, just maybe, that was the real reason she had typed Coulson’s name into that browser. 

Genuine tears sprung to her eyes as the truth struck her. And as she took a breath, she remembered a long-ago exchange. 

_“Only took 48 hours to crack you. Not much of a supervillain, are you?”_

“I’m not a villain,” she whispered. “I need help.”

Coulson shared a quick glance with the Asian woman. Her face softened almost imperceptibly, and Coulson pulled out the chair in front of him. He spoke as he sat down, again with that calm, pleasant, sincere tone. 

“Tell us everything.”

So, Jemma did. She went back to the beginning of it all, and talked about how the man she later learned was Garrett had approached her one day after work, had talked to her about an amazing opportunity to conduct cutting-edge science and see the world. He spoke of unlimited resources and gave examples of the types of things that had been analyzed after New York, extraterrestrial wonders beyond her imagining. And yes, of course, she had heard about Hydra and Captain America, but in the face of all that promise, it was easy to believe his assertions about propaganda and Hydra’s modern activities compared to the dark days of their past and how no one should be judged for their past. She found a way to justify it all, despite all the protests and pleas she heard from family and friends and her own inner voice. 

But those justifications couldn’t hold up. Not in the face of what she saw and what the others did. Donnie, and all those people who died that day. They hadn’t been the first to die, and they wouldn’t be the last. The brainwashing. The implied threats against her life whenever another attempt to replicate the formula had failed. 

She was so afraid. She regretted everything so much. The only thing she couldn’t regret was Mack. He was the one, really, who opened her eyes to all the horrors that were going on. Who believed she was better than Hydra and wanted her safe and happy. Who ultimately had given her the idea to try and find Coulson, because he had so much faith in the goodness of S.H.I.E.L.D. 

She stopped talking finally, feeling the desperation drain out of her. She had told them as much as she was willing or able to, and she could only hope for the best. The others looked around the table at each other for a moment.

The next question came, surprisingly, from the muscular man across from her, and it was the last question she was expecting.

“Who’s Mack?”

Jemma’s jaw dropped, and she fumbled for an answer. The others watched her intently. “You won’t believe me,” she finally said.

Coulson gave her a quick smile. “Try us.”

“He’s…he’s…a ghost.”

Another long pause. “A ghost?” Skye asked.

“He haunts the plane. Well, my lab. I think he must have been part of your team. Did…did someone die?”

“No,” Coulson said firmly. He looked at the man who had asked about Mack. “And there was no one on our team by that name.”

“Well,” Jemma hedged. “I doubt that’s his real name. He couldn’t remember it, so he just suggested Mack. I never thought it sounded right, even if it is Scottish-y.”

The Asian woman looked at her sharply, and Jemma heard Skye gasp next to her.

“Scottish?” Skye asked, her voice somewhat strained.

Coulson cleared his throat and the room went silent. After a moment, Coulson asked “What is this Mack like?”

Jemma started to feel really confused. “Um…curly hair, kinda skinny. Really smart. He gets unreasonably angry over silly things sometimes, just starts yelling nonsense. He’s – he’s my best friend. I know that sounds stupid, but…he’s real. I know he’s real.”

“Well,” Coulson paused and looked down. “Well, we’ll have to deal with that later. First things first, after all. I’d like to offer you a deal, Jemma.”

“What?”

“Go back to that plane.”

Jemma’s shoulders fell and she felt her stomach tighten into a knot. “No,” she could barely get out. “Please don’t make me.”

“Go back to that plane,” Coulson said again. “And we’ll be right behind you. Lead us to where it’s being held, so we can retake it. And when we bring it home, we’ll bring you with it.”


	4. Chapter 4

The next few hours were filled with planning, and then Al and Hunter brought Jemma back to her place. At that point, everything had become something of a blur. She didn’t want to think about what was going to happen too closely. It would just end up with her curled up somewhere, panicking.

But now, she was walking up the ramp of the plane and into the lab. She was one of the first ones there, and while she had argued that the ideal time to take the plane would be when they were still at a skeleton crew, Coulson had disagreed. He wanted to wait long enough to see if they could take down Garrett and Ward at the same time. Jemma felt like it was an unnecessary risk, but she also recognized it’d be dangerous to leave them alive and free. 

She took a deep breath as she walked into the lab, trying to calm herself down. But her smile was entirely genuine when she saw Mack sitting at the center table, his chin resting on one hand while he tapped the fingers of the other and stared at her expectantly.

“Could have at least left me something to read.”

“Mack, I’ve missed you!”

She wished she could hug him. 

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged and looked down. Jemma smiled at the blush creeping up his cheeks.

She put her bag down and walked closer, hoping to gain some kind of comfort or intimacy even as she knew it was pointless. But before she could say anything else, there was a rap on the lab door. She turned quickly and tried to remain natural as she realized it was Garrett. Over his shoulder, she could see Ward carrying equipment up the ramp. It was almost time.

“Ready to go?”

“Oh, yes, sir,” Jemma replied, overly enthusiastic. She inwardly cringed; whoever thought she’d be a good fit for a secret agency had never heard her try to lie. She cleared her throat and continued on, hoping to distract Garrett from her obvious discomfort. “I had an idea about the GH formula yesterday. I think I might have solved it.”

“Fantastic. I hope so. Wheels up in 20.”

Jemma nodded rapidly, but her smile collapsed as soon as he left. Surreptitiously, she reached inside her pocket and pressed the button on the small device hiding in there. Her mental clock started ticking down. And then she faced Mack again, who was watching her suspiciously. 

“Everything OK?”

“Mm-hmm,” Jemma felt a bit like a bobble head doll as she nodded again. Mack’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything else.

She began to unpack her bag and organize her things, pretending it was just like any other first day back on the plane. But she couldn’t stop the creeping feeling in her stomach that she was about to die; that if anyone were to be caught in the crossfire, it would be her; that the raid would fail and she would be punished for her role in it. She couldn’t let that happen without letting Mack know how she felt.

“Mack?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re…I mean, I…you’re my best friend in the world.” That wasn’t quite what she had meant to say, but it was still the truth.

She glanced up at him and was rewarded with one of his genuine smiles. However, his suspicion was still there, and there was some concern lurking in his eyes. She continued before he could say anything else.

“More than that, really. I know saying that’s pretty pointless but…dammit. I wish – I wish I had known you before.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I wish I had joined S.H.I.E.L.D. I could have – I could have done something good with my skills instead of…this. And maybe – maybe I could have saved you.”

“Jemma, what’s going on?”

She couldn’t have answered if she wanted to. The power went out through the entire plane, and seconds later she could hear shouts and sounds of fighting. She crouched down behind the table, knowing she had done her part and her task now was just to stay alive. 

“What. The hell?”

Mack crouched next to her, and Jemma turned to face him. They were so close that, if he were real, they would be sharing breath and their noses would be almost touching. In the darkness, just the two of them, the adrenaline rushing through her – it was almost enough to make her forget the danger. Mack seemed to pick up on her thoughts, and his eyes dropped to her lips, which she couldn’t help but lick in response. Her eyelids grew heavy and she rocked towards him.

“Simmons,” he murmured. 

Despite the inappropriateness of the moment, Jemma had to suppress a shiver. What she wouldn’t give for him to be able to touch her, just for a few seconds.

“Simmons!”

Ward’s whisper was harsher and more urgent and much, much less sexy. Jemma jumped in surprise and smacked her head against the bottom of the table. So much for hiding. Time for plan B – play along.

She cautiously peeked above the table, trying to look as nervous and afraid as possible. Hardly an acting stretch, but she wanted to really sell it.

“Ward, what’s going on?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D.,” he replied as if that were answer enough. He walked around the table towards her and Mack stood up as well, placing himself between the two of them protectively, if a bit futilely. Jemma tried not to smile at the gesture. But Ward stopped long before he got close to her. Instead, he faced the cupboards holding all the different weapons Donnie had built. 

“You OK?” he asked as he opened the cupboard and pulled out two guns. 

“Yeah.”

“Good,” he gave her a quick, sort of reassuring smile as he handed one of the weapons to her, and Jemma fought an irrational feeling of guilt. “Stay that way. Someone you don’t recognize comes in here, shoot first and ask – ”

They heard the approach at the same time, and turned to see May running at them with a determined look on her face. She launched herself over the lab table, using her hand to balance as she twisted and brought her legs forward. She kicked the weapon out of Ward’s hand before he could bring it up to aim. 

“Simmons, get out of here!”

The look on Ward’s face when he and May shouted the same order would have been sort of funny if Jemma weren’t so terrified. But the moment of confusion was enough to give May a momentary advantage. She rammed the heel of her palm into his face, and Ward staggered backwards. That was all of the fight Jemma allowed herself to watch.

Instead, she made for the lab door, not entirely sure what her plan was beyond getting out of any crossfire while she could. She wasn’t fast enough, however, and the bullet that shattered one of the lab doors missed her by inches. Jemma screamed and whirled around quickly. May and Ward were still brutally attacking each other but Ward had the upper hand for the moment and had managed to recover his weapon as well. He glared at Jemma as he aimed at her again. 

There was a blur out of the corner of her eye and the next thing she knew, she was tackled to the floor just as Ward got off another shot. A second panel of glass broke into pieces above her head, but she was far more surprised by the weight on top of her. 

“Mack?”

His hands were running all over her, feeling for injuries, as he looked at her with panicked concern. 

“I’m OK, I’m OK.” 

She had to say it several times before it finally registered. Mack took a deep breath and smiled, nodding reassuringly. And then he too seemed to realize the unexpected change in his abilities, looking down in wonder as he skimmed one hand back up her side.

Jemma was torn between wanting to hug him, just feel him fully for the first and perhaps the only time, and wanting to pull him down into a passionate kiss. But she didn’t have to – or get to – make that decision. On the other side of the room, May yelled in fury, there was a very loud impact followed by a gurgling, gasping noise and then…silence.

Mack and Jemma sat up quickly, looking over to see what had happened. Jemma sighed in relief when she saw May still standing and Ward unconscious on the floor. May glanced at her for a second before lifting one hand to her ear and saying something that Jemma couldn’t quite hear. But everything became clear when Coulson’s voice came over the speaker and announced S.H.I.E.L.D. had control of the plane. 

The sound of surprise and confusion next to her grabbed Jemma’s attention. She looked over at Mack who was staring at May. 

“It’s…the Cavalry,” he muttered. “I…Simmons, I…remember.”

And with that, he blinked out of sight.

***

Jemma sat at the table back at S.H.I.E.L.D.’s base and stared ahead, unseeing. She was exhausted and relieved, but at the same time, somewhat confused about what the future held and still feeling oddly guilty yet ultimately sort of numb and… There were so many emotions competing within her, she just shut them down, basically.

She hadn’t been able to look Ward in the eye as May forced him down the stairs that led to the cell that would be his home for the foreseeable future. Apparently Garrett hadn’t made it at all. The GH formula hadn’t been enough – or too much, Jemma wasn’t sure – and Coulson himself took Garrett out with a weapon decidedly not of this earth. 

The plane was safely in S.H.I.E.L.D. custody, with the remaining Hydra crew members being shipped off to other secure facilities to be held for trial. Jemma was the only one not wearing handcuffs. She couldn’t help but wonder if she deserved them, really.

She took a deep breath and exhaled it shakily. 

“Hey,” Skye sat down next to her and offered her a smile. “How are you doing?”

Jemma shrugged. Skye didn’t say anything for a moment. Just having someone sit next to her in companionable silence was pretty comforting. But then Skye broke in again.

“So, I think once the dust settles, Coulson will want to talk to you about how you’ll fit in with our team. He seems to like you a lot. I’m supposed to ask you what you want for dinner, because your diet apparently seriously sucks.”

Jemma narrowed her eyes in confusion. “Huh?”

Skye laughed. “While we were taking the plane, Mack went and collected your belongings from your apartment. It won’t be safe to go back there, so you’ll have to stay here for the time being. Anyway…he told Coulson about the sriracha and beer and absolutely nothing else in your fridge, so I’m pretty sure he’ll be cooking you dinner every night from now on.”

“What?” Jemma asked, having only focused on one word in that entire, odd statement.

“Hey, don’t knock it until you try it. Coulson’s a pretty good cook.”

“ _Mack?_ ” Jemma clarified. 

“Oh,” Skye slapped a palm to her head and groaned. “I mean…Al.”

Jemma turned her chair so she faced Skye straight on and stared at her, waiting for more explanation. Skye sighed and shook her head.

“Alphonso Mackenzie. Goes by Mack, not Al. We just didn’t want to confuse you or make you start asking questions.”

“I’m _really_ confused, Skye. It’s been a long day, and a very stressful last few months. Could you _please_ just tell me the truth and fill in all these weird blanks? Either you trust me to be a part of your team or you don’t.”

Skye watched her for a second and then nodded. She glanced over her shoulder in both directions and then stood, grabbing Jemma’s hand and pulling her to her feet. 

Skye led her down the hall, away from the areas of the base Jemma had already seen. They took two or three turns and went down a flight of stairs. Finally, after passing several suspiciously unmarked doors, Skye stopped outside a room with a keypad. Jemma felt a little scared, wondering what exactly she was being led to.

Skye faced her again, and reached down to take her other hand. She squeezed both of them reassuringly.

“Trust me when I say, we’re as confused as you are. We don’t know how you could be talking to him or what or where exactly he is. We don’t even know how he would have gotten the name Mack, because he’s new to the team, but I have a theory. Mack is in here more than anyone else – he keeps the life support machines running. He says he talks to him sometimes, tries to get through to him. Maybe…I mean, somehow maybe he heard him and something seeped through. I think that’s gotta be proof that we can reach him, bring him back. Maybe you have the best chance of any of us.”

“Skye,” Jemma interrupted firmly. “What are you talking about?”

Skye winced and nodded apologetically. She held up a finger to indicate Jemma should wait and then faced the door, punching in a code. The door beeped and Jemma heard a lock click open; Skye turned the knob, pushed the door open and then stepped aside.

“I’m talking about him.”

Jemma’s mouth moved but no sound came out. It felt like someone had punched her a hundred times in the stomach and she couldn’t begin to draw a breath. Almost outside of her conscious control, she moved towards him, as if her entire being was drawn to him and there was nothing or no one else in the world.

When she reached the side of the bed, she stopped, uncertain if she should touch him. He was real, and she theoretically could, but at the same time he seemed farther from her than ever. 

“Mack,” she whispered, feeling tears spring to her eyes as the scientist in her took in the tubes and monitors keeping him alive.

“Fitz,” Skye said, breaking through to Jemma and reminding her there was someone else in the room.

“Pardon?” Jemma looked up at Skye.

“Leo Fitz,” Skye repeated. “That’s his name. Not Mack.”

“Fitz,” Jemma breathed out, looking down at him again. “Yes. Yes, that seems right.”

Skye walked closer and reached out to smooth the hair off Fitz’ forehead. Jemma desperately wanted to copy the move, and she couldn’t help feeling jealous that Skye could just touch him like there was nothing special about the act, like it was something she had done a million times, like she had never dreamed about how it would feel. 

“What happened?” Jemma choked out.

Skye’s face darkened and she paused before answering. “Ward. He was on our team, fooled us all. He locked Fitz in a pod and dropped him into the ocean.”

Jemma gasped.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.’s former director fished him out. He must have figured out how to get a beacon going and rigged up some kind of explosion to open the pod. But he’s not a great swimmer and he was 90 feet below the surface and he didn’t have enough oxygen so… He’s been like this ever since.”

“What have you done to try and wake him up?”

Skye shrugged. “Nothing much, unfortunately. We don’t really have anyone on the team who could figure it out.”

“Well,” Jemma nodded in determination. “You do now.”


	5. Epilogue

Her first thought was to synthesize the GH formula. If it had been enough to bring Coulson back to life and keep Garrett alive, then surely it could wake up one little coma patient. And, somewhat unsurprisingly, she managed to replicate the formula on her first try. Apparently, she was self-sabotaging her work for Hydra more than Fitz ever had been.

But Coulson had vetoed her plan when he found out what she was doing. He declared that he didn’t want anyone else spiraling down the way Garrett had, the way he feared he was himself. And in perhaps the moment that demonstrated how much Jemma had changed over the last few months, she had accepted that. She agreed to destroy the samples and all of her notes on them, choosing what was good and right over what could have been the single greatest scientific breakthrough she had ever made. Over what could have saved Fitz’ life.

She wasn’t done there, though. Because Hydra had also been working on the Extremis formula, copied after the serum that had made Captain America super strong and super able to recover from any injury. And as long as Fitz didn’t start spouting patriotic catchphrases, trying to remake a superhero was a much better plan than trying to remake a villain.

But the formula wasn’t perfect, and the photos of exploded test subjects were incredibly disturbing. She had been working on it for weeks now and while she was pretty sure she had modified the formula correctly, she had yet to find a safe dose and delivery mechanism. The previous week she had even decided to move into the plane’s lab and work in there whenever she could. It might have been grasping at straws, but she was hoping for some inspiration. 

Or maybe some supernatural intervention…

Because that morning, when she had jerked awake where she had fallen asleep, still seated at the lab table, some of her paperwork had been reorganized, and some of the settings and equations on her tablet had been recalculated. 

“Yes,” she said to herself, standing up in excitement. “Yes, yes, of course. Fitz! You’re brilliant.”

She nearly knocked a few things off the table as she moved, trying to implement the changes to the actual device. “Well, I mean, obviously I loosened the lid a bit there, but... We’re such a good team. Can you imagine what it will be like when we can actually work together?”

The lights flickered on and off briefly and Jemma grinned widely. It was the first time since the plane had been recovered that there had been any indication Fitz was still there. Maybe he couldn’t figure out how to become visible again. Maybe the shock of remembering had been too disturbing, Jemma didn’t know. But he was still there. And soon he would actually, _really_ be there because…

“Yes!” Jemma shouted in joy as the mouse test subject survived longer than any of its predecessors had. She’d have to monitor it a while longer before she’d risk injecting the serum into Fitz, but it was a very good sign.

***

Except for the beep and whir of the machines, the room was entirely silent. Jemma had recommended moving Fitz into the plane lab. Maybe it was a bit superstitious and very much unscientific, but she wanted to make sure the two parts of him were as close as possible when they tried to put him back together. After Mack and Hunter helped move him, they left to give the rest of them privacy, so now, at the moment of truth, it was just the remaining members of the original team – Coulson, May and Skye – and of course Jemma herself. She leaned forward over Fitz and slowly injected the serum into his line. She could feel everyone tense up even more, and she held her own breath in hope and fear.

At first there was nothing. Minutes passed with no change. Jemma tried to convince herself that it was at least good he hadn’t exploded yet, but she couldn’t stop the sinking feeling of disappointment. She reached one shaking hand out and placed it over his, giving him a tiny squeeze of encouragement.

“Come on, Fitz,” she urged. 

Still nothing. She heard Coulson exhale behind her, which seemed to break them all. Jemma’s shoulders dropped and she covered her crumpling face with her free hand. She heard a small sob from Skye, while someone who could only be May slammed their palm against the wall. 

And then – and _then_ – the hand beneath hers twitched. Jemma looked over in confused, shocked hope. Fitz’ legs moved underneath the blankets, and he made a small moaning sound. Jemma jumped up in excitement and moved closer to read the output on the monitor.

“He’s waking up,” she exclaimed, barely believing it herself.

“What?” Skye nearly yelled.

But she didn’t have to repeat herself; it was far too obvious. Fitz lifted his hand, awkwardly trying to remove the tube helping him breathe. Jemma quickly reached out to help him and before she knew it, he was coughing and gagging and then, the most beautiful sound she had ever heard, breathing on his own. 

His eyes opened and immediately latched onto hers. She hadn’t necessarily planned to be the first person he saw, but she wouldn’t have changed places with anyone. She grinned despite the tears in her eyes, and he stared at her for what felt like hours. 

“Simmons?” he finally croaked.

Before she could reply, the others rushed forward, reaching out to touch Fitz in some way and filling the room with joyful noise. Jemma attempted to make them give him peace and calm as he recovered, but it was futile, especially considering he was as excited as the rest of them. Eventually, she just allowed herself to slip behind the others and back into the corner of the lab, about where she had first seen him. While the team reunited, she slid down to the floor in exhaustion and happiness.

***

Jemma ran a brush through her hair as she got ready for bed. It had been a very long week of rehabilitating Fitz physically, mentally, and emotionally. The others had been working with him as much as Jemma had, and she secretly felt a little disappointed and jealous that she no longer had him to herself. They hadn’t even really been able to talk alone much, but it was hard to feel bad about that when she considered the unbelievable progress Fitz had made in only several days. To go from being in a coma for months to walking around like nothing had happened was incredible. So, yes, she could share him a bit. She hadn’t given up hope that, when things settled, they could figure out what they were to each other and how they fit in each other’s new lives.

There was a knock on her door, and Jemma looked up in curiosity. It was quite late, but she pulled her wrap around herself tighter and went to answer.

Speak of the devil.

“Fitz!”

He offered her a shy smile. “Sorry. I know it’s late.”

“No, no. Come in.” 

She led him inside, closing the door behind him. When she turned to face him again, she took another step closer. Maybe a little too close than would be totally normal, but it was still too amazing to feel a warm, solid _presence_ whenever she was near him. 

“We just,” he started out, before pausing and clearing his throat. He tried again. “It’s just I haven’t had a chance to really thank you. You saved me.”

Jemma fought a watery smile. “Oh, Fitz…it was the other way around.”

He looked like he wanted to say more. Jemma felt like she too had hundreds of things to tell him and yet no need to say anything at all. They were in sync. Surely he knew. They stared at each other for another moment. And then Fitz’ eyes dropped down even as a blush rose up his cheeks.

“Anyway. I should probably go. Um, good night…Jemma.”

He stepped around her, and Jemma turned to watch him, feeling both disappointed and urgent as she called out his name. He faced her again, one eyebrow lifting in question.

She took a breath and slipped the wrap off her shoulders. His stare turned intense as his eyes roamed over her body, and Jemma remembered the first dream she had of him what felt like ages ago. 

“You don’t have to go,” she murmured.

His eyes lifted up and met her own again. They were dark with desire, and she was pretty sure her own expression matched. She licked her suddenly dry lips. 

“We really should test _all_ of your physiological functions,” she continued, somewhere between nervous and seductive. 

He moved then, pulling her close with a speed and strength that made her wonder if she hadn’t modified the formula enough after all. And then his lips were against hers and she was feeling entirely too oxygen-deprived and then she stopped thinking about anything else.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! (There's a possible sequel floating around in my head, if anyone's interested.)  
> Feel free to friend me on tumblr (mech-bull)!


End file.
